Devil's Due [h.s.]

Chapter 52

I spun in the direction of the windows as well, furrowing my brows before glancing over at her. "I'd say they're probably bulletproof though, wouldn't you?"

She turned to look at me, biting her lip to contain a grin. "Wanna find out?"

"No!" I sputtered, choking back a laugh. "God, it's taken this damn long to get Harry to trust me, the last thing I need is for him to come home to shattered windows because we were fucking around."

"Party pooper," Morgan rolled her eyes with a grin, reaching to grab a piece of bacon from my plate. "Speaking of that. What're you up to today? I can't really leave or come back unless you're here."

I frowned, shoving around the remaining bits of toast on my plate. "What? Why? I think I'm going to work but that's about it."

"You're the one with security access to this place," Morgan clarified, mouth full of food. "Despite how many times I've begged Harry to at least give me a thumb print or something. But no, every time it's always 'I'm not having you break in here in the middle of the night to drive my cars, Morgan' or 'Morgs, you can call me when you get into a fight with Zayn and need somewhere to stay, don't just show up.'"

I found myself laughing at her words. Mainly because I could vividly picture the frown on Harry's face thinking about him reiterating to her over and over that he wasn't going to give her access to his place and also because it was almost comical to think about Morgan and Zayn having relationship troubles. Whenever I'd seen them, they always seemed so happy and in love, it was easy to forget that even in the strongest relationship, there could be disagreements sometimes. No two people are ever going to agree on everything because no two people are exactly the same.

"Yeah, all I've got is work today..." I repeated, fiddling with the hem of my sweater. "Um, have you got any plans? I'm sorry that I'm basically your key to this place. I don't mind waiting or coming back early if you need–"

"I haven't got anything on the agenda," Morgan interrupted, tapping a blue-painted nail on the counter. "Will probably just hang around here. Distract myself. Try not to think about Zayn too much."

Her voice faltered a bit at the end. It was brief, but I caught the flash of emotion that passed over her face before it was quickly replaced by a tight-lipped grin that she forced into action. She was worried. Really worried about him. And suddenly, I knew why she hated being alone so much when he went away. It was the same reason I currently couldn't fathom sitting by myself just thinking and overthinking Harry's wellbeing. Despite how brave she was, that bravery could do nothing when she was thousands of miles away from the person that I was sure she'd go to great lengths to protect.

"Did you want to come to the studio with me?" I asked softly, running the pad of my finger around the rim of my coffee mug. Morgan's face softened and all at once, I suddenly felt a smidge embarrassed. "You don't have to. I just figured it could help keep you distracted. I could teach you how to paint and..." I swallowed hard, glancing toward the floor, before quietly admitting, "and I don't really wanna be alone either."

The next thing I knew, Morgan had jumped from her stool and thrown her arms around my neck. "Yes," she cried, pulling back enough to look me in the eye – an ear-splitting grin having overtaken her face. "I'd love to. Thank you for inviting me."

My arms wrapped around her lower waist and I pressed into the hug, grateful for the intimacy. I had to shove down the part of me that longed to hug Harry like this one day, not wanting to overstep his boundaries but knowing it would do us both a world of good.

"We'll get through these next few days," I whispered into Morgan's ear. "Together."

--

Morgan was a surprisingly fast learner. When I wasn't with clients, I'd spent the day teaching her how to paint. We'd gone over silhouettes, landscapes, some realism and abstract art. All of which she picked up quite quickly and even tried her hand at painting me, which hadn't turned out half bad. By the time the end of the day rolled around, we had about a dozen canvases filled up and were lugging out a handful more that she'd actually bought from the studio.